


Destruction

by The_Madness_of_Beyond_Birthday



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:22:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Madness_of_Beyond_Birthday/pseuds/The_Madness_of_Beyond_Birthday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch found Jack when he rose from the lake all those years ago. He saved him from a life of loneliness. Jack owes him so much, so very, very much...</p>
<p>And Pitch never lets him forget that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destruction

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short snippet from my fic, Verglas, which will be posted at some point in the future. It's a Pitch finds Jack fic with...some very dark subject matter. Please mind all tags.
> 
> Originally posted on Tumblr.
> 
> This fic has been translated into Russian by [Death_with_Flowers!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Death_with_flowers/pseuds/Death_with_flowers) Feel free to read it [here!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/4708820)

For a second, the air around the two of them is still. For a moment Jack swears Pitch’s eyes, usually gold whenever he looked at him, flash silver. For less time than it takes for a heart to beat there is tension in the air.

And then Pitch laughs. And Jack wants to run. Run fast, like the North Wind that carries him whenever he calls. Because Pitch is laughing and he’s smiling and Jack feels like he’s some kind of bug on display, being stared at by someone who wants to dissect his innermost secrets and then the laughter stops and Pitch vanishes.

_Wait…what?_ Jack looks around, bewildered, expecting to see some sign of the Nightmare King - a fleck of black sand, a shadow moving - but there’s nothing. Nothing but Jack, and ice, and wind, and the cold…

And then the darkness. It comes so fast, Jack barely has time to think before he’s covered in darkness, drowning in it, and it feels like he can’t move and it’s _cold_ and _dark_ and and and

He’s alone.

"NO!" The scream that rips through him is primordial in its fear, in Jack’s worst fear. Alone, forever, in that dark and cold with no one to touch him, no one to want him, no one to say his name, not even knowing _he has a name_ , no good dreams, no good memories, no wonder, no hope, just the dark, inky black and the _cold_ and the _fear_

"PITCH! PITCH, PLEASE!" Jack scrambles around, looking for something, anything to tell him he isn’t by himself, he shouldn’t be afraid but his hands meet with nothing but blackness and snow and the boy keens and struggles twice, three times, four times as hard, clawing at the dark around him, so scared and so pitiful and so very LONELY—

"PITCH, PLEASE!" He’s sobbing now, fighting against tears and darkness and not alone, not alone, he doesn’t want to be on his own, not again, not deep dark cold alone because it hurts more than anything and Jack can’t breathe and he whimpers because it’s too much, too difficult to draw in air and this is like drowning all over again. "Pitch…"

The poor winter sprite falls to his knees and it’s ten, twenty, a hundred years later before he feels arms wrap around him, shocking him, driving away the darkness. He feels cool lips pressing to the top of his head and hears Pitch murmuring soft words to him, words that are meaningless but mean all the world to Jack, who clings to the other as if he’ll never let him go, tears falling faster now as he grips the shadows of the robe the other wears, curling up tight against him. “Please….”


End file.
